The Beginning
by Angie Croft
Summary: The Knights of the Round Table in a modern setting, bording school, to be exact...
1. Chapter 1

Lancelot couldn't have been more bored. A September issue of _Sports Illustrated_ lay discarded beside him, as he had finished it some five hours previously. Boston's Logan Airport really wasn't a very fun place to hang around. Typical, that the only noreaster in the past nine months had to be on the day he was flying to London for the start of school, thought Lance. It was twenty minuets before the crackled, foreign voice said,

"We are now boarding any passengers with disabilities or small children."

"Seriously, if I had to wait another thirty seconds I might have had to kill someone." Lance's best friend Galahad stated as he launched from his chair. Lance smiled.

"Tell me about it. C'mon, lets jet." Galahad nodded and the two teenagers joined the growing queue of harassed looking passengers and slowly advanced towards the plane.

**Five hours and forty-nine minuets later...**

London Heathrow airport was a bear as usual. The customs office had enough people to be compared with New York on a Friday afternoon. Business men in tailored suits power walked with their heads down, leaving it up to the general public to get out of their way, while foreigners flipped hastily through their guides to the English language to read the signs. It was a clean hour and a half before Lance and Galahad could get through.

"Yeah, were here. No, no, were fine they just had delays back home... no worries, every things fine, the bus is on its way... no don't worry about us... ok, I'll talk to you then. I love you too. Bye." Lance flipped his cell phone shut and turned to Galahad. "She never shuts up. I still can't believe she actually let me come over here to play... dude, seriously, if it wasn't for your parents talking to her, I wouldn't be here at all. She still hates the idea of me being overseas, but whatever, she'll get used to it."

"Glad I could help. Here's the bus." They hurriedly grabbed their many bags and dragged them out to the waiting maroon bus, which was in fact a van. On its right side were printed the words "Hadrian's Academy. Quality Education for Quality Students." Lance and Galahad exchanged looks. How original, thought Lance, laughing inwardly.

"You ready lads?" asked the driver, fully outfitted in a valet's uniform. The two nodded and climbed into the van.

Hadrian's Academy lay about two hours outside of London in a town called Littleton. It was near the renowned Stratford Upon Avon, the birthplace of Shakespear and so on so forth. Lance and Galahad couldn't have cared less as far as that was concerned. They had come to Hadrian's Academy to play soccer. While academically it rested at around 6th highest test scores, for sports, it was number one. Half the soccer players that were now playing pro had graduated Weltall, and there was no place any aspiring sports player would rather be.

Neither boys could speak as Hadrian's came into view. Of course they had seen pictures of the rolling hills, playing fields, and the Middle Aged castle that came into view, but no one was prepared for its sheer size. The ancient building was the height of a small sky scraper and the length of several foot ball fields. On first impression it looked like the museum of Natural History in London, but its size and beauty far surpassed it's suburban counterpart. Still gaping, they said thank you to the driver and began to walk up to the oaken front doors, which were open as if to make up for the foreboding appearance of the edifice.

"Um, hi, my name is Lancelot Brewer and this is Galahad Giovanni. Is this where we find our rooming assignments?" Lance questioned the desk lady tentatively. She was old and rail thin, with severe angles to her face and one eyebrow, which, however oddly, interred into a hairy mole beside her eye.

"Mr. Brewer and Mr. Giovanni... yes, room 587, thats on the third floor. Take the stairs to your right for a while and then you'll come to a door, go in and find your room. Here's a key. Good bye." Her voice sounded like nails on a chalk board. With incredibly high pitched syllables mixed in with lows that the female voice shouldn't be able to achieve. But whatever, thought Lance at least I know where I'm going now.

"Man I'm glad we're in the same room." said Galahad.

"Yeah no kidding." Lance replied. They'd gone up the stairs and through the door. Now they stood in a long oak paneled hallway, the doors of which had little silver numbers starting with 584. "Right. I think it should be that way..." Lance said, gesturing towards the right hand corridor.

"Yeah, that looks about right." Galahad added as he began to walk that way. And sure enough within a few minuets they found there door. Opening it, they stepped inside to find four beds, all of which seemingly occupied. One of the occupants stood up.

"Hello, I'm Arthur, this is my roommate Tristan, and my friends who live next door, Gawain, Bors, and Dagonet."


	2. Chapter 2

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own any of the characters in story except some later on.**

**Thank you to Black Knight63 for reviewing!**

"Hey. I'm Lancelot Brewer and this is Galahad Giovanni." noticing the look of confusion on the boy named Arthur's face he added, "we're from America."

"Oh, yeah I was wondering about the accent..." An awkward silence filled the room. It was at least two minuets before Galahad cleared his throat and asked,

"So, how long have you been going to school here?" Looking relieved that the tension had broken, Tristan replied,

"Since the fifth grade. That's when I met these four. My parents died when I was twelve and my relatives didn't want to deal with me so they sent me here." He had a slight accent, Lance thought it might be Danish, though he wasn't sure.

"I'm sorry." said Galahad. He felt bad for Tristan. He may not always love his family, but he really couldn't imagine living without them.

"Thanks. So what made you guys come here all the way from America?" Tristan inquired.

"Oh, well we got soccer scholarships. I want to go pro, but this one is having his doubts." Lance said, gesturing to Galahad.

"No, its not that, its just that if I don't make it pro I want to have something to fall back on. Something like being a dentist or a doctor." He replied.

"A dentist? _Why_?" asked Gawain, speaking for the first time.

"I don't know," said Galahad, blushing furiously, "its supposed to be good money?" Everyone started to laugh simultaneously. How could they not, Galahad had just suggested dentistry over soccer. It was from that moment that they became the best of friends.


	3. Chapter 3

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own any of the characters except some later on, but the plot is my own genius ;) **

It was Monday morning, the first day of classes at Hadrian's Academy. Lance, Galahad, Bors, Dagonet, Arthur and Tristan were all sitting at their table in the dining hall waiting for their schedules to be passed out. They could see the hideous woman from the front desk teetering about with the schedules clamped beneth her arm.

"Jesus Christ! She's been at it for forty-five minuets already! Can't she hurry it up?" Cried Galahad in exasperation. "We've been here three days and they still haven't managed to pass out all the schedules. There's only, what, three hundred kids here? I mean come on." Lance gave one of his little half smiles that meant he was only half listening. In truth, he had his eyes fixed over on the other half of the hall, where the girls ate. For here, the dining hall was separated girls/boys, much to the dismay of the students. And there, at a table in the far corner of the hall sat the most beautiful girl Lance had ever seen. Her honey blond hair that fell perfectly waved to right below her chest was secured by a pink ribbon. The navy sweater that was part of her uniform conformed to her curves and her plaid skirt fell far above her knees, her lower legs hidden by white socks. She hadn't captured just Lance's attention. All over the hall boys were craning their necks to get a look at the beautiful newcomer. She was just that gorgeous. Unfortunately, Lance hadn't yet been able to catch her name. Not that it mattered to him. He was content just to look.

"Nice man! Looks like we have all the same classes!" Arthur said exuberantly, punching Lance in the shoulder playfully.

"What? Oh. Yeah, right, same classes." Lance had been so busy daydreaming about the girl that he hadn't noticed getting his schedule. Looking down at it, he saw:

DAY 1DAY 2

09:00-10:00- Geometry09:00-10:00- Soccer

10:05-11:05- Soccer10:05-11:05- English

11:10-12:10- Lunch Break11:10-12:10- Lunch Break

12:10-13:00- Political Sciences12:10-13:00- Science

13:05-14:05- Soccer13:05-14:05- Soccer

14:10-15:10- History14:10-15:10- Free Period

"We get free periods? That's awesome!" he said. Looking up from his schedule, Dagonet nodded.

"Why, you didn't get any breaks from school back home?" he asked incredulously.

"No. We didn't play soccer either. Trust me, it wasn't fun." he concluded. "Arthur, do you know how to get to math? The only place I know is here and my room."

"Yeah, c'mon, we'll be late. Let's go." he replied. Lance nodded and they bid farewell to their friends. Arthur led Lance up a spiral stair case hidden in a corner Lance hadn't seen before. At the top they wove their way through a series of passages until they reached a solid oak door with the label "Geometry". Pushing open the door, Lance and Arthur stepped inside. The room was dark and dusty. It was paneled in oak that would have been handsome had it not been so ridiculously dirty.

"Glad you could make it boys. As you can see, the rest of the class was actually here on time." Mr. Germanius's voice was low and rough, twinged with a slight Italian accent. He had a poorly shaven beard and small, squinty eyes, though without a doubt he also possessed an air of command. Lance glanced over at Arthur. To his utter disbelief, his friend was looking at Germanius with an expression of awe that bordered on reverence.

"He's a _legend_ here. He's the head coach here for football, so you'll get to know him well enough. He played in Rome, where he was born. He's gone pro and everything!" Arthur whispered excitedly, hardly able to contain himself.

"If he's gone pro and all that jazz, how come I've never heard of him?" Lance asked, not bothering to keep the sarcasm out of his voice. Arthur responded with a "shush" and then preceded to watch Germanius intently, as if at any moment he would burst into flames. To Lance's dismay, such an occurrence didn't come to pass, and the next hour and a half crawled by in total monotony.

When class was dismissed, Lance bolted for the door. He didn't want to spend any more time than absolutly necessary holed up with that manky old codger. Besides, the lack of light in the classroom had given him a headache. Messaging his forehead, Lance wasn't looking as he turned the corner. He did, however, notice when he ran head-long into the gorgeous girl from the Dining Hall.


	4. Chapter 4

**DISCLAIMER: I own naught of the below mentioned save the plot line**. **Happy reading!**

"Oh dear God" muttered Arthur under his breath as his new best friend slammed into Guenevere Paltrou. Lance hadn't just slightly bumped her, or gently knocked her shoulder, but full frontally assaulted her in the middle of the corridor. Not that Lance had done it on purpose, but Guenevere didn't know that. It didn't help that she had a reputation for being one of the most temperamentally unstable creatures the school had to offer.

"ARGHH!!! WHAT THE-" cried Lance as he ran into a solid mass that most certainly hadn't been there the last time he looked. The mysterious being suddenly gave way and he found himself plummeting, face first, towards the hard, unyielding marble floor. He hit the ground, or, more accurately, _Guenevere_ hit the ground, and Lance landed on her. All about them were flurries of parchment that had been knocked out of the hands of Lance's unsuspecting victim.

"Ummmm...hello? Would you mind, you know, getting off me?"

"Oh! Sorry, didn't see you there...um, yeah, hold on-" stammered Lance, as he the full realisation of who he had just accidently molested began to sink in.

"Yeah. Any day now..." Guenevere looked about, trying to see who else had witnessed this great travesty. Surely someone would come to her aide and save her from this obnoxious, if quite good-looking barbarian, who had incredibly awesome eyes. Seeing no one besides that odd bloke Arthur, Guen glanced over at the kid who mowed her down, she had no idea as to his name. He was right where she left him, scurrying about, picking up loose bits of parchment and fallen books and returning them to a growing stack to the left, muttering barely discernable apologies the entire time.

"Okay, I'm so sorry, didn't see you coming, you blent right in, ya know? It was like you were wearing camouflage or summat..." Lance continued to rush about, gathering Guen's stuff and talking to no one in particular. He couldn't believe that this was to be the first impression she got of him, that he was naught but a stupid bloke who couldn't see two feet in front of him. Why, oh why did he have to run into _her_ of all people on this god forsaken earth?!

"Um...right...well I'll just have my books and be off then. Please never touch, talk, or come in any form of contact with me again. Laters!" She grabbed her books from a flabbergasted and brick red Lance, ans violently elbowing Arthur out of the way strode down back towards the dorms.

" Please Arthur, shoot me now!" groaned Lance, sagging against the wall nearest.

"I feel for you mate. Granted, your not the first she's done in like that. In fact, you can thank her for the dorm you and good ole' Galahad share. The bloke that used to have your dorm, Neville, his name was... he also ran amok of Guenevere Paltrou."

"What happened to him?" asked Lance in a horrified wisper, expecting the worst.

"Well...the next day they found him in the dining hall with his wrists cut open. No one knows how, but he managed to slit himself with a spoon. He's been committed ever since. Bit funny really, there were jokes for weeks about the next person to get on her bad side jumping of a porch...You're not the suicidal type, are you?" he concluded, surveying Lance dubiously.

"Don't be an idiot." said Lance punching Arthur in the arm. Arthur winced, Lance punched hard.

The sound of a classroom door opening distracted the two boys. Stepping out of the classroom opposite was a tall, light brown haired, blue eyed and skinny girl. She had the look of an athlete, built lithe with long legs and a lovely face. Her hair was short, and she wore it tied back. Lance watched in awe as she walked along the corridor in their general direction. She hadn't yet seen Lance and Arthur yet, she was too busy with something in her bag. She looked annoyed, her brow furrowed as she rummaged about. A strand of hair fell in her face as she was rummaging and with great annoyance she shoved it back behind her ears. When Lance had recovered sufficiently from the surplus of attractive girls he was seeing today, he noticed that she wore no make up at all, and didn't seem to care a rat's arse what she looked like. Lance felt it was this that made her so appealing to him. Suddenly a look of triumph crossed the girl's features. She lifted her hand from her bag to reveal a single, grubby pen, which she was clutching as if it were her life. It was then that she looked up and caught site of the two boys opposite. Her gaze went to Arthur first, and when her eyes met his, her face lit up with recognition.

"Arthur! Wotcha mate! I haven't seen you in ages!" Lance started in surprise as he heard her voice, as she too was American. The girl ran at Arthur and gave him a huge hug.

"Amanda! How are you love?" responded Arthur, grinning back at her.

"Good, good...So, how's life treating you?"

"Can't complain...hey, I don't believe you've met my new friend, Lance. You'll like him..He's a yank too, by the way."

"Really now? Wotcha. I'm Amanda. Amanda Evans." she smiled as she said this.

"Hey. Lance Brewer. Where in the States are you from?" he asked. It was good to hear an American voice again.

"Cape Cod. It's in Massachusetts. Are you familiar with its locale?" she smiled to herself, Lance got the impression that she was amused at her choice of words. Lance was still grasping the fact that she was also from Massachusetts. What were the odds, that he and this beautiful Amanda Evans had grown up less than three hours apart, in the same state!

"Of course I'm familiar with its locale," he said, quoting her. "I'm from Concord!"

"Really?! Brilliant! When did you come over!?" she queried excitedly.

"Naught two weeks ago. You?" he replied. She was intriguing him. Arthur looked amused at his two friends apparent fascination with each other.

"Dunno..I've been here ages. I'm on scholarship."

"Yeah same. Soccer-excuse me football" he amended, throwing a sarcastic glance at Arthur. Arthur just smiled and shook his head. Amanda laughed.

"Got you using the local jargon already, does he?" she joked, smiling. She liked Lance. It hadn't escaped her notice how ridiculously good-looking he was. He was just her type, tall and dark. He had brownish-black curls that fell in a disheveled manner and was rather long. The thing that really fascinated her about him was his eyes. One was so dark it appeared black, whilst the other was green. She then became conscious of the fact that she was staring blatantly at Lance. She smiled sheepishly. He returned the gesture, flashing his perfect white teeth.

"Right...well I'd best go. I've got to finish an essay for Honorious, you know how those can be. I guess I'll see you lot later, then..." she gestured vaguely at the door behind her. Lance nodded.

"Yeah. I'll see you around." He couldn't help staring at her...she was just so..._pretty_. Not fake or anything, not a stupid blonde cow, but a witty and attractive female. He hadn't known they made them like that. He was loathe to see her leave.

"I'd like that." she said quietly. Louder she called out "Adios, amigos. Yo pienso vir Uds. anoche. Esta bien?"

"Don't speak Spanish, love." replied Arthur, looking annoyed. It was clear to Lance from his tone that she did this was not a special occasion, and that Amanda was prone to such random outbreaks of foreign tongues. Lance smiled to himself again. He was beginning to think that this day might not turn out so bad after all.

**A/N I am so bloody sorry for the wait. I solomnly swear it will never happen again! Happy reading! Cheeiro and Happy Easter**

**-Gyselle**


	5. Chapter 5

**DISCLAIMER: I own nothing but the plot line and Amanda.** **And J.C.**

Lance spent the rest of the day reviewing the events of that morning. What had at first promised to be the worst day in recorded history had turned out to be ridiculously awesome. He couldn't stop thinking about his new acquaintance, Amanda Evans.

"Lance. Lance. LANCE! You stupid sod I'm talking to you!" yelled Arthur, waving his hand in front of Lance's face.

"Oh. Right. What?" Lance shook his head in attempt to clear it from thoughts of the girl he barely knew.

"I was just saying how I thought you me and the guys should go hang out with Amanda and her friends tonight. I've been meaning to introduce you to J.C, and you seemed to get along with Amanda alright." He added this last comment with a sly smile. He was perfectly aware that his friend was unable to concentrate on anything but Amanda. It wasn't as if he had the best attention span anyway, it was actually akin to that of a teaspoon, but that wasn't the point. Lance was smitten with Amanda, and Arthur knew it. She had appeared to have gotten on quite well with Lance too, if her inability to keep her eyes off him was any indication.

"Hang out...with Amanda...tonight?" repeated Lance slowly as if trying to process the meaning of these words.

"Yes. And J.C"

"Hang out...as in visit...tonight...as in today tonight?" Lance said again, in the same slow, concerned voice.

"No _tomorrow_ tonight. Yes today tonight you idiot. Honestly, how thick are you? You can find the square root of two in like point five seconds, but you can't comprehend the simple fact that we are going to go and visit Amanda and J.C tonight. I can't lay it out any plainer for you mate." said Arthur in exasperation. His manner of speaking clearly questioned his friends sanity.

"Oh. Sure. Sounds good." Lance tried and failed to sound offhand. Arthur didn't buy it, but he decided not to comment. Lance, for his part was in a state of euphoria. The initial shock of discovering he was going to get to see Amanda again was wearing off, and now all he could feel was hopeful anticipation.

"Yeah, so I was thinking we would go at around 6, we can meet up with them at dinner and then go over to the dorms from there." said Arthur.

"Okay." It was four forty five now, and Lance and Arthur were about to leave for dinner. Lance was glad it wouldn't be long before he saw _her_ again. Only fifteen minuets until they were both in the Dining Hall together. Granted, the Dining Hall was segregated, but it was more if the thought of being in the same room that kept Lance going. At least he could _look_ at her. There was no harm in _looking_. Well, no harm unless she noticed. Whilst thinking about girls in the Dining Hall Lance was forcefully reminded of the incident with Guenevere, as the Dining Hall was where he had first noticed her. He shuddered at the memory of there last meeting. It was truly fascinating what a short term memory he had, as meeting Amanda had driven away all thoughts of the vicious girl he had encountered earlier that day. Now, however, the events of earlier replayed through his mind with vivid clarity, and they were certainly something he wished to forget. Attempting to distract himself, he turned his thoughts once again to Amanda. He was going to see Amanda later...see Amanda later...see Amanda later...it worked. By the time he and Arthur had reached the Dining Hall, Lance had once again forgotten all about Guenevere.


	6. Chapter 6

For the most part dinner passed uneventfully. The term uneventful, of course, was subjective, seeing as two food fights and a drunken Professor Gaius telling tales of his days as a player at the Renaissance Fayre were commonplace at Hadrian's. Lance kicked back in his chair, throwing his arms up to stretch.

"I'm stuffed." He proclaimed, three cheeseburgers, two chili-dogs and half a bottle of brown sauce later.

"Me too" acquiesced Arthur, pausing only long enough to get the words out before stuffing his face with more blood sausage. Similar murmurs of agreement were heard down the table as the rest of the boys finished up their meals. It was amazing the difference in the two sides of the Dining Hall, the girls neat and prim, the boys…not so much. Had Lance been paying attention to the finer details of the scene he may have noticed the difference, but as it was he was far too busy making eyes at Amanda, who sat chatting animatedly in between J.C and another pretty girl who Lance recognized from geometry as Venora. As he thought her name a little red flag went up, and he remembered that she was Bor's on and off girlfriend. More off than on from what he'd gathered. Still, it was rather nice, how the objects off all their affections happened to hang out together. Perhaps Bors would come with he and Arthur tonight to see the lovely ladies. Remembering suddenly that they were on a bit of a schedule, Lance turned to Arthur who was sat in a cationic state induced by an excess of food consumption.

"Oi we should probably head up soon, we told Amanda and J.C. we'd meet them at 7"

"What time is it now?" said Arthur after a rather long pause.

"6:40"

"Ughhnsn" was Arthur's only response. It was clear that he was regretting the absurd amounts of food he had just downed. Lance shook his tousled head, his lips twisting involuntarily into a crooked smile and dragged a groaning Arthur from the hall.

They made it upstairs in decent time, all things considered. Arthur had only had to stop three times in the last five minutes which was quite possibly a record. In his brain Lance was only planning on nipping in to his room for a quick change, but that all changed when he stood in front of the mirror, long white hand reaching into his mainly shirt filled drawer. A thought dawned on him then, something he had never before considered; he had no idea what to wear. Suddenly it was vitally important that he look nice. Maybe not stellar but nice. And of course it couldn't look like he'd tried too hard to look nice, that would be not so good. Frustrated, he fished around aimlessly in the draw until he found a good candidate for Sweater of the Night. It was a soft navy blue button up cardigan which he threw on over his white shirt, and cast a look in the mirror, pausing. He sighed deeply still marveling at the curling nerves in his stomach. It had been a long time, longer than he cared to remember since a girl had made him feel like that. After running his long white fingers through his thick sable curls Lance decided he looked as good as he was going to and with one final glance at the mirror in passing he grabbed his jacket and was off.

Arthur stood waiting at the foot of the stairs in the exact spot Lance had left him. He was clutching comically at the banister mumbling something about life-vests; apparently having dosed off. It had always been a mystery, Arthur's semi-magical ability to sleep while standing. Or leaning, but either way the effect was the same. Lance prodded Arthur experimentally, hoping to get a handle on just how far gone down the Path to Sleep he really was. After only a few jabs Arthur's green eyes snapped open and he blinked balefully up at Lance like some bedraggled puppy.

"C'mon mate, we're gonna be late" said Lance, grabbing a fistful of Arthur's food spattered shirt and dragging him out into the hall.

It was just seven when they arrived at Amanda and J.C's room. Both boys were a bit jumpy, the girls' hallway made them more than a little uneasy. It was painted this sickly shade of chartreuse, Lancelot was forcefully reminded of kittens and rose petals. The thing that really made it worse, if that was possible, was the addition of a flowery boarder running like a freight train along the middle of the wall. Drawn on all loopy and childlike were a series of daises, each one posed in such a horrifically sweet and sunny manner that one found onself smiling maniacally at the sight of them. Each daisy had matching, violent grins complete with nubby little teeth. Lancelot and Arthur were shuffling uneasily from one foot to another, casting suspicious glances about so consumed with their feelings about the daisies that they leapt several feet when Amanda opened the door to let them in.

"Hey boys! I'm so glad you came, come on in! J.C.'s just inside…"

At this point Lancelot completely zoned out. He found Amanda stunning when she wasn't trying to be attractive, so the sight of her now that she was…unbelievable. Her hair, normally thrown up one way or another hung loose in long waves that framed her face and set off her cheekbones. Some kind of makeup (Lance was no expert) highlighted her large lapis-lazuli eyes which gleamed with light. Her perfect smile was wide, white, stunning. She said something Lance was too distracted to hear and ushered them in to the dorm.


End file.
